


Blunting the Thorns

by Cantatrice18



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Female Friendship, First Meetings, Gen, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 21:45:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosethorn is less than thrilled to hear of a new novice coming to live at Discipline cottage - that is, until they actually meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blunting the Thorns

“Absolutely not!”

Niko sighed as Rosethorn glared at him. “There are no other options. She can’t stay at the novice’s dormitory any longer, it has caused too many problems – the children are less than appreciative of her age.”

Rosethorn tossed her head angrily. “Make her stay at the Air Temple, then. She’s some sort of weaver, they’re used to that type.”

Niko pursed his lips. “I’ve already thought of that, naturally, but they’ve refused – only dedicates are allowed to stay there.”

Rosethorn glowered at him. “So you expect me to put up with the bumblings of a raw beginner just because this cottage has a few extra rooms? I came here to get some peace and quiet to work, I don’t have time to safeguard everything I own against a novice’s prying.”

Niko threw up his hands in disgust. “I give up. I’m not going to spend time trying to talk you around – you don’t have a choice anyway. Honored Moonstream has ordered her to live here, and that’s that.”

Rosethorn’s fists clenched. “Moonstream – who does she think she –“

Niko raised an eyebrow at her. “I believe Moonstream considers herself the head of this temple. Her word is final. I suggest you get used to it.” He stalked to the door, hesitating as he reached it. “I forgot to mention… her name is Haideh, and she will arrive in a half-hour to settle in.”

He departed, leaving Rosethorn sputtering her indignation. The woman finally stalked into her workshop, disgusted. Her plants, sensing her anxiety, reached out to her, filling her with warmth and comfort. She walked through her garden, coaxing vines back onto their trellises and feeling the familiar sensation of soft dirt against her bare toes. When she was calm she returned to the house. The clock was just striking two hours past mid-day, and if Niko hadn’t been toying with her, the novice should have arrived the half-hour before. She shook her head in disgust; novices were never punctual – the girl had probably gotten distracted by some bit of embroidery, or perhaps with something valuable at the Hub. Niko had mentioned he’d found the woman in the Mire, she was probably an ex-thief of some kind. Rosethorn made a mental note to renew the lock spells on her workshop, then shook herself, trying to regain the inner calm her plants had given her. Thinking about the Hub reminded her that she was running low on supplies; If there were to be two people living at the cottage (and it didn’t look like anything could be done to prevent that now), they’d need more than half a loaf of bread and some cheese. Rosethorn herself never ate much, but even she needed more than that. She set out along the winding road that gave the temple its name, breathing deeply as the wind rustled through the trees; It was just reaching that point in autumn when the leaves changed color, before all the plants went into their winter hibernation. The scent of the plants surrounded her, and she was so caught up in it that she almost missed the odd sound that came from her left. Frowning she listened harder. A tiny moan came from the irrigation ditch, and as she peered into it she gasped.

A young woman lay half submerged in the water, her hands and feet bound by invisible cords. Her clothing was ripped, and several cuts along her arms and neck bled slowly. Rosethorn scrambled down the embankment, landing with a splash and sending up a cloud of silt. She dragged the woman out of the water, carrying her with ease back up to the road. Once there she quickly muttered the counter spell for the Shackles of Air, and the unseen bonds released. The woman struggled to stand, and Rosethorn lent her a helping arm. Once upright, the woman bowed her head respectfully. “I thank you for your aid, dedicate, and apologize for inconveniencing you.”

Rosethorn grimaced as she eyed the woman’s torn clothes and the way she shivered as the cold breeze swept over her soaking wet body. “You’d better come with me to dry off. You’re likely to get chilled and catch a cold if you don’t.” She strode back up the road towards the cottage without waiting for a response, glancing back to ensure that the woman was following.

They reached Discipline without encountering another soul – the main temple services had begun, and most people were either there or enjoying a late mid-day meal. She sat the woman down at the long table and set a kettle on the stove to make tea. Retreating to her room, she pulled her spare habit from her clothes chest. Though her own habit was damp along the bottom, it was nothing compared to the sopping wet state of the woman’s clothes. It was only as she returned to the main room that she noticed the color of the woman’s habit underneath the muck from the ditch. Despite her age, the woman wore the white of a novice. With a sinking heart, Rosethorn realized the only thing that could mean. She shoved the habit at the woman. “Here. Change.”

The woman hesitated. “Dedicate, you too are wet, you should have dry clothing.”

Rosethorn pursed her lips. “You need it more than me. Besides, you’re dripping on my floor.”

Without another word, the woman took the habit from Rosethorn’s outstretched hands and retreated towards the empty room Rosethorn pointed at. She emerged a minute later, carrying her waterlogged clothes. “There’s no point in keeping those,” Rosethorn remarked curtly, “they’re too damaged to be of any use.”

To her surprise, the woman shook her head. “The tears will mend, the fibers are still workable.”

Rosethorn scowled, but chose not to argue; if the woman wanted to wear a ripped, frayed habit that was her choice. “Put them outside then. They’ll dry soon enough.” The woman left, and when she returned Rosethorn shoved a mug of hot tea in her direction. “Drink.”

The novice accepted the mug and murmured “Thank you, dedicate Rosethorn.”

Rosethorn looked at her in surprise. “You know my name? How?”

The woman looked up at her, meeting her eyes calmly with no trace of unease or nervousness. “This is the only cottage of its kind that I have seen, and it has a spare room that is currently unoccupied. Since it is clear that you live here, I can only assume that this is Discipline cottage, and you are the Dedicate in charge of it, Dedicate Rosethorn.”

Rosethorn raised an eyebrow. The novice was swifter than she’d first appeared, despite her soft-spokenness. “You’re Haideh, then?”

The woman nodded, and Rosethorn examined her closely. Now that she was dry, her bronze skin shone slightly in the light coming through the windows, and her wide cheekbones drew attention to her sparkling golden eyes. She was tall and a bit too thin. Rosethorn grimaced as she realized that she’d never actually made it to the hub to get more food. She sliced the remaining bread in the breadbox and made a hasty sandwich with the leftover cheese. “Here – you should eat something.”

Haideh made no protest, instead biting carefully into the sandwich and chewing slowly. Rosethorn sat down at the opposite end of the table. “Care to explain what happened this afternoon?” The other woman looked up from eating, her expression quizzical. Rosethorn half-smiled. “I might be mistaken, but I don’t think it’s a normal occurrence for novices to end up shackled in a ditch after mid-day. In my youth that always seemed like more of a breakfast event.”

Haideh blushed. “Some of the novices are displeased that someone my age has joined their numbers. They consider my inexperience an insult of some kind, and feel as though the fact that I discovered my magic so late in life demonstrates my incompetence.” She looked away. “They are also upset that someone who lacks a certain level of breeding and social standing should be allowed to learn alongside them.”

Rosethorn scowled. “Then they’re complete fools. Magic is unpredictable, everyone knows that, and it has nothing to do with your upbringing.”

Haideh gazed sadly into the distance. “I can understand how they feel, even if I disagree with them. Accepting a change to the normal order of things is hard, especially a change as unusual as me.”

Rosethorn felt herself begin to turn red. She herself had expressed similar resistance to change a mere hour before. She rose and walked to Haideh’s side, placing a firm hand on the woman's shoulder. “I will do my best to ensure that no such pettiness interrupts your training here.”

Haideh smiled and Rosethorn felt an odd tightness in her chest. All resentment at the invasion of privacy was forgotten, and an unexpected protectiveness engulfed her. She shook her head to clear it and walked towards the door. “I’m off to the hub, we’re completely out of food. When your things arrive, you can set them up in the same room you changed in.” She paused and turned back. “Would you like anything particular while I’m out?”

Haideh smiled contentedly. “I’m alright, but thank you for asking.”

Rosethorn felt the tightening one more, and she left hurriedly, making sure to latch the door and the gate behind her. She sent an extra thread of magic into the plants surrounding the gate, ordering them to entrap any intruder; no one would hurt the novice if she could help it. Her mind was suddenly filled with images of a life spent with this new woman, and as she walked down the circular road once more she found herself smiling. She had the strangest feeling that Haideh’s arrival would end up being a stroke of good luck.


End file.
